Mr. Punch's Book of Sport<br />The Humour of Cricket, Football, Tennis, Polo, Croquet, Hockey, Racin by J. A. Hammerton and Linley Sambourne (ready to read books .TXT) 📖
Book online «Mr. Punch's Book of Sport<br />The Humour of Cricket, Football, Tennis, Polo, Croquet, Hockey, Racin by J. A. Hammerton and Linley Sambourne (ready to read books .TXT) 📖». Author J. A. Hammerton and Linley Sambourne
Whereas his slow deliveries
Would suit the veriest crock.
The butcher prides himself on chops;
His leg-cuts are a joke;
But when he lambs the slow long-hops
There's beef behind his stroke.
The grocer seldom cracks his egg:
He cannot catch; he butters.
The gardener mows each ball to leg,
And trundles daisy-cutters.
[Pg 58]
Our tailor's cut is world-renowned;
The coachman's drives are rare;
He'll either cart you from the ground
Or go home with a pair.
The village constable is stout,
Yet tries short runs to win;
They say he's run more people out
Than ever he ran in.
The curate (captain) every match
Bowls piffle doomed to slaughter,
But still is thought a splendid catch—
By the vicar's elderly daughter.
The watchmaker winds up the side,
But fails to time his pulls;
By now he must be well supplied
With pairs of spectacles.
Our umpire's fair; he says "Not Out,"
Or "Out," just as he thinks;
And gives the benefit of the doubt
To all who stand him drinks.
No beatings (beatings are the rule)
Can make our pride diminish;
Last week we downed the Blind Boys' School
After a glorious finish!
[Pg 57]
"ANIMAL SPIRITS"
The Great Cricket Match. "England v. Australia." Umpires, the two wombats.
Cockney Motto for a Feeble Cricketer.—"Take 'Art of Grace!"
Good News after the last Cricket Match.—Rest for the wicket.
[Pg 59]
CRICKET HITSBy Dumb-Crambo, off his own bat.
STUMPED
CAUGHT OUT
RUN OUT
DRAWING THE STUMPS
At the Gentlemen v. Players Return Match.
New Yorker. Say, can I get a square meal here?
Waiter (with dignity). This, sir, is the Oval 2s. 6d. Luncheon.
[Pg 60]
DRAMATIC DUET
Sharp Person (asks, singing). In what hand should a cricketer write?
Dull Person (answers, also singing). I don't quite understand.
Sharp Person (annoyed). Shall I repeat—
Sharper Person (briskly sings). Oh no! I see't, He'll write in a bowl'd round hand.
[Exit Sharp Person L.H. Sharper Person dances off R.H. Dull Person is left thinking.
A Hundred Up
Tommy (reading daily paper). What's a centenarian, Bill?
Bill (promptly). A cricketer, of course, who makes a hundred runs.
Tommy. You don't say so. I thought he was called a centurion.
A well-known cricketer was expecting an interesting family event. Suddenly the nurse rushed into his smoking-room. "Well, nurse?" he said, "what is it?" "Two fine byes," announced the nurse.
[Pg 61]
CRICKET HITSBy Dumb-Crambo, off his own bat.
PITCHING THE WICKET
A MAIDEN OVER——?
A DRIVE TO THE PAVILION
HOLDING A CATCH
To be seen for Nothing.—The play of the features.
Motto for British Cricketers.—Strike only at the ball!
[Pg 62]
A FEW QUESTIONS ON CRICKET
Q. What is "fielding"?
A. The author of Tom Jones.
Q. How do you stop a ball?
A. By putting out the lights.
Q. When does a party change sides?
A. When he's in bed, and got the fidgets.
Q. What do you call "a long slip"?
A. A hundred songs for a halfpenny.
Q. How much is game?
A. It depends whether it's in season.
Fancy our dear old lady's horror when she heard that last week, at Lord's, a cricketer had bowled a maiden over. "Poor thing!" exclaimed Mrs. R., "I hope she was picked up again quickly, and wasn't much hurt."
PHILOSOPHY AT THE POPPING CREASE
"The glorious uncertainty?" why, to be sure,
That it must be the slowest should see at a glance,
For cricket, as long as the sport shall endure,
Must be in its nature a mere game of chance,
"'Tis all pitch and toss"; one can show it is so;—
'T isn't science or strength rules its losses or winnings.
Half depends on the "pitch"—of the wickets, you know,
The rest on the "toss"—for first innings.
[Pg 63]
Bowler (his sixth appeal for an obvious leg-before). "'Ow's that?"
Umpire (drawing out watch). "Well, he's been in ten minutes now—Hout!"
[Pg 64]
Our Village Cricket Club.—Tom Huggins, of the local fire brigade, umpires for the visiting team in an emergency. Laden, as is usual, with their wealth, watches, etc., he hears the fire-bell, and obeys duty's call without loss of time!
[Pg 65]
The Limitations of Fame.—"And what are you?" "Oh, I'm the wicket-keeper." "Then why aren't you busy taking the gate-money?"
[Pg 66]
CON. FOR A CRICKETER
Miss Nelly sits cool in the cricketer's booth
And watches the game, about which, in good sooth,
Her curious interest ne'er ceases.
She now wants to know of the flannel-clad youth,
However the wickets can well be kept smooth,
When she hears they are always in creases!
Miltonic Meditation (by a looker-on at lawn-tennis).—"They also serve who only stand and wait."
Appropriate to the Season.
Q. What is double as good a game as Fives?
A. (evident) Tennis.
Going to the Deuce.—Getting thirty to forty at lawn-tennis.
Suggestion to Provincial Lawn-Tennis Club.—Why not give lawn-tennis balls in costume during the winter?
Most Appropriate Attire.—A "grass-lawn" tennis costume.
The Game for Rackety Bishops.—Lawn-tennis.
[Pg 67]
Miss Delamode (of Belgravia). "Well, dear, I must be off. Don't you love Lord's?"
Miss Dowdesley (of Far-West Kensingtonia). "I'm sure I should, only——" (immersed in her own dreams)—"We don't know any!"
[Pg 68]
OUR VILLAGE CRICKET CLUB
I
At our opening match, Spinner, the demon left-hander, was again in great form. His masterly skill in placing the field, and his sound knowledge of the game, really won the match for us.
"About three feet nine to the right, please, Colonel—that is to say, your right. That's it. Back a little, just where the buff Orpington's feeding. Thanks."
[Pg 69]
OUR VILLAGE CRICKET CLUB
II
"You, Mr. Stewart, by this thistle. Just to save the one, you know."
[Pg 70]
OUR VILLAGE CRICKET CLUB
III
His ruses were magnificent. When the Squire came in, Spinner (who had previously held a private consultation with the other bowler) shouted, "You won't want a fine leg for this man. Put him deep and square. And then——
[Pg 71]
OUR VILLAGE CRICKET CLUB
IV
The Squire was neatly taken first ball off a glance at fine leg by Spinner himself, who had crossed over (exactly as arranged) from his place at slip.
[Pg 72]
A TRILL FOR TENNISNow lawn-tennis is beginning, and we'll set the balls a-spinning
O'er the net and on the greensward with a very careful aim;
You must work, as I'm a sinner, if you wish to prove a winner,
For we're getting scientific at this fascinating game.
You must know when it is folly to attempt a clever "volley,"
Or to give the ball when "serving" it an aggravating twist;
Though a neatly-made backhander may arouse a rival's dander,
You'll remember when you try it that it's very often missed.
Though your play thrown in the shade is by the prowess of the ladies,
You must take your beating kindly with a smile upon your face;
And 'twill often be the duty of some tennis-playing beauty
To console you by remarking that defeat is not disgrace.
For you doubtless find flirtation at this pleasant occupation
Is as easy as at croquet; when you're "serving" by her side,
You can hint your tender feeling, all your state of mind revealing,
[Pg 74]And, when winning "sets" together, you may find you've won a bride.
So we'll don the flannel jacket, and take out the trusty racket,
And though other folks slay pigeons, we'll forswear that cruel sport,
And through summer seek a haven on the sward so smoothly shaven,
With the whitened lines en r�gle for a neat lawn-tennis court.
The Place for Lawn-Tennis.—"Way down in Tennessee."
[Pg 73]
A SKETCH AT LORD'S
Eva (for the benefit of Maud, who is not so well-informed). "—and those upright sticks you see are the wickets. Harrow's in at one end, and Eton's in at the other, you know!"
A POLONAISE"Nemo me on pony lacessit."
Mad bards, I hear, have gaily trolled
The boundless joys of cricket;
Have praised the bowler and the bowled
And keeper of the wicket.
I cannot join their merry song—
Non valeo sed volo—
But really I can come out strong,
Whene'er I sing of Polo!
Let golfophiles delight to air
Their putter-niblick learning;
And, scarlet-coated, swipe and swear
When summer sun is burning!
Let artful cards sit up and pass
Their nights in playing bolo;
But let me gambol—o'er the grass—
[Pg 76]And make my game at Polo!
On chequered chess-boards students gaze
O'er futile moves oft grieving;
With knights content to pass their days,
And constant checks receiving.
'Mid kings and queens I have no place,
Espiscopari nolo—
I'd rather o'er the greensward race,
And find no check in Polo!
Then let me have my supple steed—
Good-tempered, uncomplaining—
So sure of foot, so rare in speed,
In perfect polo training.
And let me toast in rare old port,
In Heidsieck or Barolo,
In shady-gaff or something short—
The keen delights of Polo!
Motto for Croquet.—"She Stoops to Conquer."
In-Door Amusement for Old People.—The game of croakey.
How to Learn to Love Your Enemies.—Play at croquet.
For the Drawing-Room (When there's a dead silence.)—My first is a bird; my second's a letter of the alphabet: my whole is some game.
Explanation. Crow. K. (Croquet.)
[Pg 75]
Lucy Mildmay (who is fond of technical terms). "By the way—a—are they playing 'Rugby' or 'Association'?"
[Pg 77]
"OUT! FIRST BALL! A CATCH!!"
A player who sprained his wrist at lawn-tennis explained that "he had been trying a regular wrenchaw, and did it effectually."
[Pg 78]
SPORTIVE SONGAn Old Croquet-Player Ruminates
I like to see a game revive
Like flower refreshed by rain,
And so I say, "May croquet thrive,
And may it live again!"
It brings back thoughts of long ago,
And memories most sweet,
When Amy loved her feet to show
In shoes too small, but neat.
I think I can see Amy now,
Her vengeful arm upraised
To croquet me to where
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